The Pit of Ultimate Dark Shadows (Rocky Horror bits)
by Daryl Wor
Summary: Imagine… if you will… almost all the 1960's spooks coming together, or sending help from afar… That is, these folks: Morticia and Gomez Addams, Lily Munster, Captain Daniel Gregg, Wadsworth from "Clue", and a few not so 1960's interrupting a long story-line to solve one horrible, screwed-up place? Collinsport. (Audio version available.) Maybe Wadsworth IS ALSO Dr. Frank N Furter...


**_(It's a Multi-Fandom. It doesn't belong in the "Cross-Overs". Hose A03...)_**

 ** _A/N: Hi there…. Well, I'm sure this will really do nothing for fun discussion… but… you know… one tries whatever might work._**

 ** _This series has been in existence since 2011, technically. I didn't bring Rocky Horror music and dynamics into it until 2012. That was just a natural deviation since Tim Curry played the butler, Wadsworth, in the movie "Clue" and then I managed to live through one 24-Hour period in which I had to perform the "Sweet Transvestite" song before I wet myself and fell down laughing my rear-end off all night…_**

 ** _So here it is, also available, in audio, via podcast form on podomatic, podbay, iTunes, blubrry, googleplay, etc._**

 ** _Now I can get more stat-numbers and no one from here emailing me for pen pal ship._**

 ** _I hope you all crap your GD panties! :P_**

 ** _Do I sound bitter? Heh, heh, yeh… I get a lot of that…_**

 _Summary:_

 _Here Tony and Carolyn's romance grows as they head out to Schooner Bay and being in such good spirits help out a lady who looks quite worried, and so Mrs. Muir ought to be. Sometimes Capt. Gregg has little patience._

 _The episode re-plays the damaging of Angelique's portrait by Sam Evans, but the difference is Sam Evans becomes angry when he sees it, beginning to remember something tragic from other realms he once knew. Also, as the painting is about to be scourged, Cassandra meets with Barnabas as in the original, however Wadsworth is down in the cellar singing his heart out and bringing an added tension to this scene. On Dark Shadows, when Barnabas is told that the painting is missing by Cassandra, he says "How fortunate... erm how un..." (which was obviously poor Jonathan Frid trying to correct this flub and then giving up on it.) I decided in my version to let Barnabas HAVE that flub, in all confidence and dispense with the need to correct it!_

* * *

The Pit of Ultimate Dark Shadows Episode Four: Captain Gregg Gets Bent

[Pit of Ultimate Darkness Theme Music]

MILLIGAN: Good evening and welcome once again to the Pit of Ultimate Darkness… or rather, as we like to say back stage, The PIT of ULTIMATE… DARK SHADOWS! I am your host, Sir Simon Milligan.

[Hoots and hollers from the audience.]

MILLIGAN: Oh, my! Well, thank you. I _blush_ at your patronage. TONIGHT… we enter the encapsulated subconscious of the human mind… Oh… wait a minute… perhaps not. Didn't the dream curse come and go? I must look into this skull as a fortune teller does her crystal ball.

[Three tones cascade upward.]

NASALLY WOMAN'S VOICE: If you'd like to make a call, please hang up and try again. If you feel you've reached this recording in error, hang up and then dial your operator.

MILLIGAN: OCH! Well! That got me nowhere. I must now call upon my handy, well-beloved of Satan and trusty sidekick… Manservant HECUBUS!

[Rousing cheers. ]

HECUBUS: Good evening, Master. I am here to serve YOU… aaaaaaand SANTA!

[Sound of crickets.]

MILLIGAN: … say… _what?_

HECUBUS: Whoops! Just a bit of metathesis, here. Pardon me… (burps, pats chest) There, all better now.

MILLIGAN: Hecubus, I'm wondering if you recall if the dream curse has come and gone yet in our Collinsport radio drama.

HECUBUS: I believe it has, Master. In fact, I believe we are wafting into the realms of… ART!

MILLIGAN: Art… who?

HECUBUS: Oh, no, Master! Art as in drawing, painting, the visual arts. As in… The Picture of Dorian Gray .

MILLIGAN: Hecubus! You're giving away where we've ripped off our plotlines!

HECUBUS: (snickering)

MILLIGAN: EVIL! Still evil after all these years! (clapping) Ladies and gentlemen; Hecubus, The Evil One!

[Audience applauds.]

MILLIGAN: Now on with the show! We need a volunteer… YOU!

RANDOM MALE VOICE: Me?

MILLIGAN: Do you dare come to the Pit of Darkness?

RANDOM MALE VOICE: Yeah, sure, why not? Business is slow.

HECUBUS: RISE and APPROACH!

[steps]

MILLIGAN: And what is your name?

RANDOM MALE VOICE: My name is Tony Peterson.

HECUBUS: Ha! Ha! Made you say it!

TONY: Made me say what?

HECUBUS: We made you say, "My name is…"!

TONY: Um… alright, fine.

MILLIGAN: Tony Peterson, I am about to rob you of your free will, does this frighten you?

TONY: Hardly.

MILLIGAN: (shocked) WHAT?

TONY: I've had that done on a number of occasions recently, a woman with a lighter, MY lighter, kept staring at me in the garden and possessing my thoughts. If it's all the same to you I'd rather you didn't. It's been *seriously* irritating.

MILLIGAN: (crestfallen) Oh, well then… (chipper) Then how about I REASSERT your free will!?

TONY: Sounds good to me.

MILLIGAN: YOU are a GUMSHOE prominent lawyer of COLLINSPORT with all your free will INTACT!

HECUBUS: YOU are… what he said!

TONY: Aren't you going to hypnotize me first?

MILLIGAN: We just did. Um… Hecubus, please entrance him with the sleep of ages.

TONY: What's that for?

HECUBUS: Just a little validation, like having your parking ticket stamped.

PETERSON: Oh… okay.

HECUBUS: Repeat after me… Bea

TONY: Bea

HECUBUS: Oh

TONY: Oh

HECUBUS: Pro

TONY: Pro

HECUBUS: Blem.

TONY: Blem.

HECUBUS: Faster. Bea. Oh.

TONY: Bea… Oh.. Pro…

HECUBUS: Blem

TONY: Bea… Oh… Pro… Blem

HECUBUS: Faster. And page it overhead!

TONY: Bea…. Oh…. Problem… Hey, everybody, do I have a Bea O'Problem here?

HECKLER: You sure do!

TONY: You know what? I have a date. I'm leaving!

HECUBUS: Do so freely! In fact, I'm sure you P. Freely!

HECKLER: Haaaa, ha'h'hee!

MILLIGAN: And NOW! We return to you to Collinsport in which we join Tony Peterson and Carolyn Stoddard on their date, already in progress.

[ _Dark Shadows Theme music_ …]

* * *

[Sounds of car motor and background music of the standard Blue Whale variety. (Santo & Johnny)]

TONY: I'm glad you accepted my invitation to a long drive and dinner. I've been dying to get away from Collinsport for ages.

CAROLYN: Oh, me too, Tony. What's the name of this place we're going?

TONY: Norrie's Lobster House, quiet, quaint and a far cry from our usual spots at home.

CAROLYN: No, I remember Norrie's, but where is the restaurant? The city it's in?

TONY: (laughing) Oh, my! Not a city at all. Not even a town! It's a township called Schooner Bay.

CAROLYN: Township? Really? Actually, Schooner Bay sounds familiar. I think I have a great aunt that lives there…

TONY: OH?

CAROLYN: Yes, a school mistress, on my father's side. I'd love to meet her, in fact.

TONY: You haven't met her?

CAROLYN: Oh, no. Well, I didn't try. Much mention of my father's side was distracted away when I was a child, but I remember hearing about her from a chum in high school very briefly.

TONY: Maybe we'll look her up while we're there.

CAROLYN: Well, now that I think it over I'm not sure if I'm REALLY related to her. The thing is she lives in Maine and her last name is Stoddard and I just thought, you know… COULD be!

TONY: Dang… wish I could make a phone call. I have connections and might be able to find out something.

CAROLYN: You could? That would be marvelous.

MILLIGAN: Meanwhile, Barnabas, having spoken with Professor Stokes over a slice of cheese and a totally unsweetened biscuit, decides the portrait of Angelique that Roger continues to covet throughout all this time, is to be captured from Collinwood and vandalized with a certain complexity.

HECUBUS: Hee hee hee…

MILLIGAN: Yes, Hecubus. Thanks for sacrificing my shrine hostage to this torment. Now we have to suffer seeing it constantly changing hands. However, I suppose it's an integral part of the story. This is indeed the painting Roger has become enamoured with during his oh so brief marriage to Cassandra. Both our lovely Angelique and Cassandra, as we all know, are the same person. Barnabas believes this picture is the key to Cassandra's resurrection.

* * *

WADSWORTH: Here you are, sir. It was a fairly simple absconding and most deservedly, I'm sure.

BARNABAS: You are nothing if not a wonder, Wadsworth. A most terrifying beauty lies herein as I look at her.

WADSWORTH: Agreed, sir. Some dark entity does lurk in the features of this specimen. Of course, we both know why, sir.

BARNABAS: Tell me, how did you manage it?

WADSWORTH: Well, there is a usual exchange of delivery items betwixt here and Collinwood. I transfer the dairy to Mrs. Johnson and she hands over the eggs so we have a daily interaction that way. You see the delivery men are afraid to brave the wilds of the estate, so we arranged this solution to the dilemma.

BARNABAS: _Truly._ It makes the telephone seem obsolete.

WADSWORTH: Then call me not a wonder, sir. It is the wonders of Providence. However, while I was there I wandered about to Mr. Roger Collin's study where the portrait was hanging above his desk and there he found me.

BARNABAS: Oh my! Was he acerbic?

WADSWORTH: Somewhat, but then he was most appreciative as I was able to re-locate a volume of Dale Carnegie's he seems to continually misplace.

BARNABAS: (smilingly) Oh, yes, "How to Stop Worrying and Start Living".

WADSWORTH: The very one, sir! How did you know?

BARNABAS: I lent it to him… actually… truth be told, I left it on his desk in hopes he'd venture its pages.

WADSWORTH: NOT a bad idea, sir!

BARNABAS: Thank you, my good man.

WADSWORTH: I take it your finally catching on to my method of handling things.

BARNABAS: Well, since the death of Dr. Lang and the disappearance of Adam, I think I've finally had enough of all the pathetic _barbarism_ we've been dealing with.

WADWORTH: Yes. That wasn't exactly the best way of seeing you… _some_ what cured. How one can project a life force into another body is something I'd tried myself, however. And I can't quite see the connection to having two bodies walking around with only one thing propelling them forward.

BARNABAS: Ah… then perhaps it was your odd solution.

WADSWORTH: Coffee and brandy, sir? I doubt it.

BARNABAS: Hmm, I've seen your usage of the laboratory. I think there's something quite different you've been serving me. Why you're so keen on being useful to me is still the mystery often on my mind.

WADSWORTH: "Their's not to make reply… Their's not to reason why… Their's but to do and die."

BARNABAS: Die?

WADSWORTH: Merely quoting, sir, from Alfred Lord Tennyson's "Charge of The Light Brigade".

BARNABAS: Who is that?

WADSWORTH: Was, sir… (sighs) Oh my… Dale Carnegie _before_ Tennyson sir? (tsk, tsk) Apparently you're _much_ better at secreting books for others to read than I am.

BARNABAS: I suppose. I've been a bit behind on my reading.

WADSWORTH: No _doubt_ , sir. On that note, there is another quote by Tennyson I'd like to mention.

BARNABAS: Oh?

WADSWORTH: "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all."

BARNABAS: (sadly touched) Beautiful… and likely true. How does it fit?

WADSWORTH: (smilingly) It doesn't, sir. Between you, I and my employment here, it's not a beneficial quotation.

BARANBAS: (content) I see. Thank you for that… And without further ado I shall take this painting with me to… well.

WADSWORTH: No need to tell me, sir. It is better I don't know. Then I shan't have to explain it to anyone else. I'll close the door behind you.

BARNABAS: Thank you.

[sound of door closing]

MILLIGAN: And now we return you to Carolyn and Tony Peterson in Schooner Bay!

[sound of car door shutting]

CAROLYN: It is quaint.

TONY: I agree. Shall we go in?

CAROLYN: Wait, Tony. I just wanted to tell you…

TONY: Yes?

CAROLYN: Well, to thank you, really. This has been a very pleasant day for me. A walk by the ocean, a beautiful drive along the coast and…

[subtle smooching noise]

TONY: (gratified) Well, what was that for?

CAROLYN: For everything. My dear, you… are… one to keep!

MILLIGAN: And so they are seated, orders taken and they peruse the various topics of conversational enjoyment. Then Carolyn, more kind hearted than one might give her credit for, becomes distracted by a woman seated nearby.

CAROLYN: Excuse me, ma'am?

MA'AM: Oh, would you like the salt from this table?

CAROLYN: No, I was just wondering, if I might ask, you seem terribly upset. I was wondering if you'd like to talk about it?

MA'AM: (leaning forward) Oh, well… no… I mean, yes… well, it is a little awkward.

CAROLYN: Tony, let's move the table.

TONY: What? Toward the wall?

CAROLYN: Yes, there's not much on it yet. Just the silverware.

TONY: Well, okay, heave-ho.

MILLIGAN: And so they joined their table to their neighbors against the wall. One might be puzzled at this behaviour but good moods being so rare, the two felt ample to share.

MA'AM: Well, that's very kind of you, and so sudden, too.

TONY: We've had a lovely day, so we're only too happy to share it. Now what's the trouble?

MA'AM: Well, my name is Carolyn Muir.

HECUBUS: (snickering) Hee, hee, we made her say it, too!

MILLIGAN: Hush, Hecubus!

CAROLYN: Carolyn? Why, that's MY name, too!

MRS. MUIR: Oh! Well, in that case, it'll be just as well you call me what everyone else does. I'm Mrs. Muir.

TONY: Hello, Mrs. Muir, I'm Tony Peterson.

CAROLYN: And you know my name, wink wink, nudge nudge.

MRS. MUIR: (worriedly) Definitely… well. The crux of the matter is that I have an old painting in my home, which I'm renting… that's the house, not the painting, and my children were playing around by it and well… it's got a stain on it now… and it's dirty and old as it is and needs to be cleaned and likely a little…

CAROLYN: Refurbished?

MRS. MUIR: Yes! And though I've lived here some time, I don't know anyone who could do that kind of work on such an old painting. But it has to be done… as… well… a friend of mine has prominently put it.

TONY: A friend?

MRS. MUIR: In so many words.

CAROLYN: Oh, well…

* * *

MILLIGAN: This part of the conversation is interrupted by a request for a drink and a meal order for Mrs. Muir. I shall dispense with these trivialities and return you to the EVAN'S COTTAGE!

* * *

[knocking noises]

SAM: HUH? Mr. Collins! My, what a surprise to find you out at this hour!

BARNABAS: Oh?

SAM: The sun is still out, you know… heh, heh.

BARNABAS: Oh, yes, well my business has allowed me a bit more leisure time to devote to certain pursuits. Particularly this one.

[shifting of painting]

SAM: My goodness! _Carried_ that did you? Usually you hire someone to do all that. So many changes.

BARNABAS: I am somewhat more fit than I have been. Now, if you take a look here…

SAM: (suspicious) Hmmm… What a wicked looking woman. And familiar somehow… Attractive, but still…

BARNABAS: Yes, I entirely concur, but…

SAM: You digress, of course, here, just plop it on the easel. Now, what are you bringing me this for?

BARNABAS: I want you to age it.

SAM: Age it? This? This is hardly a new painting! It must be over a hundred years old already. If you want, I could distress the frame with sandpaper and then slap some peanut butter and jelly over the picture and wipe it with tack cloth, but I doubt that will do much. Why do you want this done?

BARNABAS: This is a job to be done with no questions. I don't want you to distress the portrait itself, just the subject in the painting so that she ages older and older until she is well over a hundred years old… maybe two. And I'd like you to begin at precisely 10:15PM and use the stiffest bristles you can manage.

SAM: But, Mister Collins, this is such gorgeous workmanship. How about I just buy it off of you for $50?

BARNABAS: How about I pay you $500 to do what I asked?

SAM: Are you serious?

BARNABAS: Do I look like I'm jesting?

SAM: (studious joviality) You *could* be playing dead pan.

BARNABAS: Mr. Evans, I would like the job done by you. With your skill, I am sure it can be accomplished to grand perfection… (distracted) I say, you appear to have gotten lost in thought…

SAM: (pause) Hmm…? I have an odd feeling…

BARNABAS: Yes?

SAM: Like I've seen her before…

BARNABAS: Oh my… not recently, have you?

SAM: No… (softly) but it seems so long ago… so very long that it would surpass my own life span…

BARNABAS: Her face is familiar to you?

SAM: No… not simply her face… the hair… the clothes… (heated) … everything.

BARNABAS: Mr. Evans… you are looking… a little…

SAM: _Vengeful?_ I believe I may feel somehow wronged by this image… Mr. Collins – I'll do it!

BARNABAS: With the harshest of brushes?

SAM: Of course.

BARNABAS: At 10:15PM precisely?

SAM: Yes… in fact, I'll just cover this up and put on an alarm here.

BARNABAS: Good idea. If you continue to stare at it, you look like you may become too eager.

SAM: I believe you're right. What could be coming over me I can't say, but I'm sure it'll make the work go _faster_.

BARNABAS: I understand. There are cases of familiarity that can charge certain emotions. (assuredness begins breaking up) Déjà vu has that… effect… on…

SAM: Mr. Collins, now you look a little lost.

BARNABAS: You know, Mr. Evans… there's something more familiar to me about you as well. I can't place it yet. Hmm… I suppose it's only…

SAM: (thoughtfully) A fluke? Likely. Not surprised. Déjà vu, funny…

BARNABAS: I believe it literally means "already seen".

SAM: Yes… French isn't it? P'shhh… that in itself is giving me déjà vu.

BARNABAS: Is it? I suppose we can only continue to wonder on that score.

* * *

MILLIGAN: With this part of Barnabas Collins's errands out of the way, we return you to Schooner Bay.

* * *

[door closing]

MRS. MUIR: Well, here we are. Home sweet home.

OLDER WOMAN'S VOICE: Oh, Mrs. Muir- hello?

MRS. MUIR: Oh, Martha, these are two people I met at Norrie's. This is Carolyn Stoddard and Tony Peterson. This is my housekeeper and good friend, Martha.

[The three exchange introductory hellos.]

MRS. MUIR: They came out to Norrie's all the way from Collinsport.

MARTHA: Collinsport? My, what a long drive! I've heard of peculiar goings ons there abouts.

TONY: I hate to be a spreader of superstition but anything you may have heard is likely fairly close to true, with a grain of salt, ma'am.

CAROLYN: (tittering) Well, perhaps a quarter-teaspoon of salt, to be more accurate.

MARTHA: Really?

CAROLYN: It's all the stormy weather, puts people into a flight of fancy.

[crash of thunder]

MARTHA: You think _you've_ got stormy weather? We do, as well, but it comes and goes so quickly sometimes. That flash and crash? Likely to make a drizzle and go out in two minutes.

CAROLYN: Probably all heads over to us.

TONY: Could be, I always wondered if any place nearby had prior warnings.

MRS. MUIR: Well, Martha, I wanted to show them the painting of the Captain. They know someone who may be able to clean and refurbish it.

MARTHA: (happily) Oh? Well, in that case have at it. I'll make some coffee to prepare you for the long journey. It will be nice to have a reprieve from the Captain a while.

MRS. MUIR: Martha, are the children in bed?

MARTHA: Oh, yes, all tucked in and sleeping like angels. We have the evening to ourselves.

MRS. MUIR: Good work, Martha. Well, let's move into the parlour here and you can look over the painting. (under her breath) Yes, I can trust them, stop worrying.

CAROLYN: (confused) Why would I be worried?

MRS. MUIR: (jumps a bit) Oh, well, it _is_ a little hard to clean, I'm sure. Well, perhaps I was worried.

[steps into another room. Click of lamp.]

MRS. MUIR: Here is the painting; Captain Gregg, he built this house and named it Gull Cottage. And, of course (falters) the bits of mustard off to the side… ahem…

CAROLYN: Oh, my, very grand, forbidding, but with a certain charm… well, minus the condiments of course.

TONY: Yes, quite an admirable looking seaman.

MRS. MUIR: (under her breath) Yes, _see_ , told you we could trust them.

TONY: Hmm? Mrs. Muir, you _do_ have the habit of muttering.

MRS. MUIR: Oh, I do apologize. I tend to make mental notes in a verbal manner. I'm a writer. Are you very impressed with the portrait?

CAROLYN: Oh, yes! It's quite a change from the paintings of ancestors we have at Collinwood. With those paintings it seems to be mainly about wealth and stature rather than showing what they spend time doing. They're all so stuffy, barely a hint of a smile, but then Tony explains that's a newer expectation in portraiture.

MRS. MUIR: Oh, my, yes! Have you seen a set of the presidents portraits all lined up? I believe there was this idea (under her breath quickly) yes I'm _getting_ to that (back to normal volume) that if one smiled it wasn't dignified. But nowadays that idea has changed.

TONY: Yes, it has. A bit of Hollywood taking over. A smiling face is so much more inviting, I suppose, though I prefer honesty in expression, however it forms.

MARTHA: Here _is_ the coffee. So, are you going to leave a nice empty space over the mantel?

CAROLYN: Oh, not for too long, Martha.

MARTHA: (disappointed) Oh, I was hoping it would be a while. I'd feel a richer sense of serenity if it were… (steps out)

CAROLYN: She _does_ speak her mind, doesn't she? (giggle)

MRS. MUIR: (pleasantly) Like I said (pouring coffee) Martha is not only a housekeeper, but a friend.

TONY: Is the painting set with a basic hanging in the back?

MRS. MUIR: Oh, yes. If you can lift it and place it in your car, I'm sure it will be simple enough and, (under her breath, irritated) yes I know! (normal volume) we'll put it in paper and cloth to see it's not damaged.

MILLIGAN: And we leave them to have their coffee and transport the painting in peace. We now take you to the Main House of Collinwood, where Elizabeth Stoddard is in the drawing room wondering over a particular postcard as Roger walks in.

[sound of crackling fire, seat being taken]

ROGER: Liz? You seem a bit concerned over that. Any worries?

ELIZABETH: (mild surprise) Well… it's nice to hear you care.

ROGER: Oh, of course. I've been feeling a great deal better lately, just going over some legal matters. But what have you got there?

ELIZABETH: A postcard from Victoria.

ROGER: Ah, and how is our old governess doing?

ELIZABETH: A shaky hand wrote this, I'm afraid… postmark says Washington state, but I can't make out the city.

ROGER: Likely went to go and investigate the Space Needle in Seattle. I hear that's quite a structure for fools without fear.

ELIZABETH: Rog- _er_ … Must you always have something acidic to add?

ROGER: Of course… you know me.

ELIZABETH: (sighing) To be sure, I do. At least you're calmer these days. Anyway, I do wish this fellow she finally picked out had a sure name. It doesn't surprise me she didn't tack it onto her own yet. The paper work for their marriage was so hazy.

ROGER: Ah, well… They tried… and people take it as read that their married as things are. To many of us, emblems and watermarks make a document, but the ceremony still holds higher importance to most people. If only _I'd_ been so wise to take my marriage vows as simply, then I wouldn't have to bother looking over the contractual mess of it.

ELIZABETH: Sorry to hear that, Roger… I did warn you not to marry her.

ROGER: I know it. B-u-t, I'll see how binding it all is. Anyway, what does Victoria write?

ELIZABETH: Well, the most recent place they stayed had a murder investigation going on, but they've been able to leave and move ahead.

ROGER: Heh! That doesn't sound like a good start at getting away from all the bizarre turmoil of this place. Maybe she took some of it with her.

ELIZABETH: I wouldn't think so. She was so happy when they left.

ROGER: So you said. And glad to hear it. (reassuring) Well, perhaps it was only a stroke of bad luck. If they're still on the road there's hope for them yet.

ELIZABETH: Thank you, Roger.

ROGER: You're welcome, Sister.

[patting of shoulder]

* * *

MILLIGAN: Little does Roger realize that his missing lady… that I _covet so highly_ … has been neglecting him while snooping through windows at her old abode. I suppose she doesn't want to put in an appearance until she discovers why she's been summoned… elsewhere… Next we return to the Old House, where a not so blood-sucking anachronism of a man awaits a visitor as he has a courteous discussion with the dependable Wadsworth.

* * *

BARNABAS: I must thank you for conveying that message to… Cassandra for me.

WADSWORTH: Oh, it took a bit of driving to find her, but I was sure a certain mystic beautician in Boston would have patched up the works of our heroic Mrs. Johnson. A dream curse can only go so far.

BARNABAS: Really? Did you tell my cousin Roger _where_ she was?

WADSWORTH: I suggested it. She does seem to have the kind of vanity that gave him no misgivings about the idea.

BARNABAS: You always make me want to raise your salary.

WADSWORTH: Ah, there is no need of that quite yet. I appreciate the effort and after all of my own history, it's very nice to have such a large place to be sequestered. I do welcome the leeway you've bestowed, and the solitude.

BARNABAS: Of course. You've earned it.

WADSWORTH: If you don't mind, sir. I believe I shall venture down to the cellar and continue with my… preserves.

BARNABAS: Oh, very good, Wadsworth. You give yourself _all_ the leisure time you want tonight.

WADSWORTH: I shall, I do anticipate we'll both be needing a bit of priv'vacy.

BARNABAS: Yes, I am expecting _someone_ almost at this very minute.

[knocks on the door]

WADSWORTH: Shall I answer?

BARNABAS: No, you do best to make your way down to your preserves. I shall answer it.

WADSWORTH: Good evening, sir.

[steps, cellar door opening]

BARNABAS: And Wadsworth?

WADSWORTH: Yes, sir?

BARNABAS: Don't be hindered to keep quiet. A few rattling chains would certainly add to the atmosphere this evening.

WADSWORTH: (devilishly) Very good, sir.

[cellar door shuts, steps, creak of the Old House front door]

BARNABAS: Please come in Miss-

CASSANDRA: (self-assured) Mrs. Roger Collins.

BARNABAS: Oh, dear, I'm sorry. I keep forgetting. Well, what kept you? Oh, dear is that a cat scratch at your arm?

CASSANDRA: No, it's from a bladed glo—oh, nevermind.

STRAINS OF SINGING FROM THE CELLAR: _How d'you do? I see you've met my faithful handyman…He's just a little brought down because when you knocked…He thought you were the candyman._

CASSANDRA: (perturbed) Oh dear, perhaps you have company and this is the wrong time?

BARNABAS: (self-assured) Oh… no… hardly.

STRAINS OF SINGING FROM THE CELLAR: _"Don't get strung out by the way I look! Don't judge a book by it's cover-r-r!"_

CASSANDRA: What was that?

BARNABAS: Oh, just one of the ghosts around here… you _do_ know we have a plentiful variety of ghosts in Collinwood, yes?

CASSANDRA: No, I didn't well-

STRAINS OF SINGING CONTINUED: " _I'm not much of a man by the light of day, But by night I'm one hell of a lover!"_

BARNABAS: (politely ignoring singing) I haven't seen you around Collinwood lately (pouring brandy) I thought perhaps you were on a vacation?

SINGING: _"Let me show you around, maybe play you a sound. You look like you're both pretty gro-o-ovy!"_

CASSANDRA: No, (agitated by the distraction) I just decided to go to Boston for some shopping.

BARNABAS: Without telling anyone? That's peculiar, isn't it?

CASSANDRA: Is it? Well actually, no one even knows I've come back from that trip.

BARNABAS: Or went on it…

CASSANDRA: I had an idea you had a portrait my husband seems to have misplaced.

BARNABAS: Misplaced? You must have snuck over there and peeped in a window to get that information.

CASSANDRA: Perhaps I did. I believe that portrait is missing.

BARNABAS: (soft but plesantly) How fortunate… (regular voice) Will you have a brandy? As you can see… *I* AM having one!

CASSANDRA: Why not? It has been a bit draughty in this-

BARNABAS: House coat?

CASSANDRA: -chilly night air.

BARNABAS: Of course, (hands her glass) I know you're used to… a much… WARMER climate?

CASSANDRA: (vaguely ticked) I'm not a native of Maine, all right?

BARNABAS: Well, do *I* look of Passamaquoddy lineage to you?

CASSANDRA: Passama-what?

BARNABAS: Have your brandy…

SINGING: _"Well, you got caught with a flat? How 'bout that? Well, babies, don't you panic! By the light of the night, it'll be alright! I'll get you a Satanic Mechanic!"_

[sipping noises, then a quiet splutter]

CASSANDRA: (wipes her mouth) You still haven't mentioned why you wanted me here.

[Singing fades into the distance.]

BARNABAS: Well. It is… TEN-THIRTEEN PM and all is well.

CASSANDRA: Do you normally shout out the time?

BARNABAS: Not normally, but then here we are… with not another soul about.

SINGING ABRUPTLY RETURNING: _"I'm just a sweet transvestite! From TRANSSSS-SEXUAL_ …" [singing dies away]

CASSANDRA: (sips, trying to shake off bizarre scenario) _Good brandy_ … I must say I'm rather tired of sherry.

BARNABAS: I do hope so. You see, I think *tired* is a good word for how you will feel in… five… four… three… two…

CASSANDRA: What are you-

BARNABAS: ONE!

CASSANDRA: OW!

* * *

MILLIGAN: Meanwhile at the Evan's Cottage where Sam has become possessed of a previous life as Andre DuPres…

* * *

SAM: GRR! (harsh brush strokes on canvas) Despicable monster! I remember now and _strait from the underworld_. I hate you and what you did to my daughter you conniving, wrathful, underside of a beast! Now you are sixty and with this stroke I'm moving you on to eighty!

* * *

MILLIGAN: And back at the Old House.

* * *

CASSANDRA: That SMARTS!

BARNABAS: (angry) It darn well ought to! You've interfered with my family and love life far too long.

CASSANDRA: (horrified) My hand! It's wrinkled and gnarled!

BARNABAS: Well, here's a mirror if you'd like to powder your nose.

CASSANDRA: My face! What is _in_ that Ponds Cold Cream?

BARNABAS: Nevermind! You shall either repent what you've done or wither away back to the bubbling sulfur of Hell!

CASSANDRA: I'm allergic to sulfites!

BARNABAS: Then stop drinking wine!

CASSANDRA: I know what you've done! And I will find who is responsible!

BARNABAS: (amused) What? No pretending you _aren't_ Angelique?

CASSANDRA: WHO?

BARNABAS: (has had it) Oh, fine! I'll open the door for you and your miserable fro!

CASSANDRA: AHHHHHHH! (clomping out the door.)

* * *

MILLIGAN: We now return you to the Evan's Cottage, not to be confused with Gull Cottage… well, maybe, kind of.

* * *

[knock, knock, knock]

SAM: (wildy possessed) Oh, être foutu and sacré merde… durn pestering folks, who could _that_ be?

[stomping to the door]

[crash of thunder as the door opens]

CAROLYN: That weather DID follow us here!

TONY: It did indeed.

SAM: (breaking free of "possession") HUH? Carolyn? Mr. Peterson?

TONY: That's me!

SAM: What're you doing here?

CAROLYN: Oh, Mr. Evans, please let us in, I'm afraid it'll rain any minute!

SAM: Oh… (coming to a more normal behavior) Of course, come right in. Shall I perk some coffee?

TONY: Oh, we've already had quite a bit in Schooner Bay.

SAM: Schooner Bay?

CAROLYN: Oh, yes, Mr. Evans, we were just there and there was this very kind woman who needed a painting cleaned and refurbished and we just thought of you, naturally.

SAM: Well! I'm already working on something, in fact, it's a bit in a particular schedule for right now, I mean…

CAROLYN: Oh, I knew you'd be just the man for the job, let's bring this in…

[lugging noises]

SAM: Oh, honestly, Miss Stoddard, I can't work on this right now.

TONY: You mentioned something about coffee?

SAM: I thought you didn't want…

CAROLYN: Oh, yes, Mr. Evans, _please_ perk some coffee up. Can you make it strong?

SAM: (gratified) Well… it's about the only way I can make it.

[steps out]

CAROLYN: Good thinking, Tony.

TONY: (somewhat sensuous) Anything for you, Miss Stoddard.

CAROLYN: Oh, Tony, you are so formal.

TONY: I noticed he became that way when things weren't going how he expected.

CAROLYN: Yes, something is going on here, let's see what- *GASP*!

TONY: What is it? … **GOOD GOD!**

CAROLYN: (shocked) No kidding! That looks like Uncle Roger's wife!

TONY: And then some! But she's older and…

CAROLYN: Coming well unglued… I think…

TONY: We need to hide this before…

CAROLYN: Before he fixes it to what she looks like now?

TONY: Exactly!

CAROLYN: Ok, let's get to it! Switch the portraits.

TONY: Right behind you.

[more lugging noises… door closing]

SAM: (none the wiser) All right, here's the coffee… hey, what the heck?

[car motor noises]

MILLIGAN: And essentially, as our listeners may easily have discerned Carolyn and Tony are leaving with the painting]

SAM: Well, my bonté, I might as well go back to… WHAT THE _HELL_ IS _THIS_ PAINTING?

[Dark Shadow crescendo of downfall theme… then exit "The Ghost & Mrs. Muir" TV Theme]

All Due Respect to:

The Kids In The Hall

Clue (1980s film)

Rocky Horror Picture Show (film)

The Ghost And Mrs. Muir (1960s TV Show)

And of course,

Dark Shadows (1960s TV Show)

* * *

(And now? Off I go to post flyers for The Pit audio drama in areas where midnight showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show are still playing and people still give a crap about audience participation. And I will likely do this by bus...)

 ** _A/N:Thanks for reading/listening._**

 ** _Please don't bother giving any critiques. This has been in audio/podcast form for years. It won't do any good to suggest changes in the story. And in my attitude? Even less so... Just email me if you want to talk._**

 ** _Otherwise? Tell me what made you laugh._**

 ** _Late._**


End file.
